


mischief managed

by JBS_Forever



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Cause magic, Loki is adopted, and dimensions and stuff, it's just pure angst you guys, let's not pretend it's anything else, obviously the only one who can help is Stephen Strange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 19:23:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12711366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JBS_Forever/pseuds/JBS_Forever
Summary: Loki drops Peter in a time loop, forcing him to watch Tony die over and over again.





	mischief managed

**Author's Note:**

> Because it's almost 6:30 in the morning and I haven't slept and I really want to eat cake. 
> 
> (*this story idea inspired by the Supernatural episode where Sam is stuck in a time loop and watches Dean die, except, you know, there's humor in that episode and this story is pure angst. I'm sorry. I mean, you guys claim to like angst, but I still feel bad.)

Peter wakes with a scream caught in his throat.

 

He sees Tony dying. Tony impaled by a spear, straight through his chest, his eyes wide in surprise. The alien creature doesn't take the time to laugh. There are a hundred more like it, all of them on a mission, and none of them stop to notice the people they are killing in their wake.

 

But it's all Peter can look at. He webs over the top of crowds and drops down next to his mentor, scrambling frantically to find a pulse.

 

“Mr. Stark,” he says, and then, when there's no response, “ _Tony_.”

 

No farewell speech, no final words of wisdom. Tony was dead before Peter even hit the ground.

 

The scream chokes off. May knocks twice on his door and opens it. “Peter? Are you okay?”

 

He nods numbly.

 

It was just a dream. _Just a dream. Just a dream._

 

He exhales slowly.

 

 

 

At first it's the feeling of deja vu. Ned is wearing the same outfit he was wearing yesterday and he's talking about building the new Lego Jedi Starfighter, which he already told Peter about, but Peter figures he's just excited and maybe needs to do laundry, so he lets everything slide.

 

It's strange when he knows the questions his teachers are about to ask. It's stranger yet when he gets every answer correct.

 

“Good job, Peter,” Mr. Johnson says. “Looks like someone is paying attention.”

 

After school, Happy picks him up and drops him off at the compound. Tony wants to work on his suit, and he wants Peter to start training with Natasha. “For stamina,” he says, then pauses. “Wait, is that the right speech? I just have so many of them memorized.”

 

Peter doesn't smile, because Tony said this exact joke yesterday.

 

_What the hell?_

 

Fear tingles down his spine. He tries to ignore it. He spares with Natasha and is more focused this time – still nervous and energized, but too on edge to be clumsy. When she swings for his head, he ducks, and she lets out an impressed whistle.

 

“Nice reflexes, kid.”

 

But no, it isn't reflexes. Natasha threw the same punch at him the last time they were training and he was so pumped to be working with Black Widow herself that he'd completely let his guard down and she slipped right past his defenses.

 

“Whoa,” he mutters. This is definitely not right.

 

“Can the duel,” Tony says, interrupting them mid-fight. “We've got incoming.” He tosses Peter his suit.

 

“Is this – this is a mission?” Peter asks, trying and failing to keep the excitement out of his voice. _Be cool_ , he tells himself.

 

“Uh huh,” Tony says. “You're on civilian duty, you got me? Get them out of harm's way and we'll go from there.”

 

Peter nods eagerly. He's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, _this_ isn't familiar at all, which means whatever weird thing was happening must be over.

 

When they land in Brooklyn five minutes later, they are met with the aliens from his dream. His stomach drops.

 

“Mr. Stark –” An explosion cuts through his words, sends the world tilting under his feet. Tony is zooming off in the other direction.

 

“Start clearing blocks,” he demands over the intercom system. “ _Now_. Barton, you here yet?”

 

“Of course I am,” Clint says. “Where else would I spend my vacation? To your left.”

 

Vision flies overhead. Peter shoots a web up and swings to the end up the street, wrangling people together, moving them to safer locations. All the while he listens to Tony make sarcastic comments in his ear.

 

_It was just a dream. It was just a dream._

 

Then there's a strangled gasp, and Natasha cries out, “Tony!” and it's not just a dream, because the spear is slicing through Tony's suit, through his ribs, emerging out the back. His faceplate is open, his mouth dropped in surprise, and he starts falling.

 

Falling and falling and falling.

 

Peter wakes up back in his room to find May sitting on the edge of his bed.

 

“Shh,” she says. “You're okay, Peter. You're okay.”

 

He's still yelling.

 

 

 

May tells him he doesn't have to go to school, but he goes anyway, needing to get the nightmare out of his head. He makes sure the attack wasn't real, makes sure Tony is alive, and everything checks out. He is sure he's just stressed or sleep deprived and imagining things – until he sees Ned in those clothes again.

 

Everything goes the same. His classes, the sparing with Natasha, the sudden invasion of New York City. This time Peter is ready for the alien who attacked Tony and he wipes it out before it gets a chance to do any harm.

 

And then another swoops in while his back his turned and stabs Tony again. He falls and falls and Peter yells and yells and opens his eyes to find himself back in bed.

 

 

 

He calls Tony and he doesn't answer. He calls Happy and he does.

 

“You better have a good reason for calling me at one in the morning,” Happy says. It doesn't sound like he was asleep, so Peter feels only a small amount of guilt when he tells Happy he has to talk to Tony.

 

“It's an emergency,” he says, and he's shaking so much Happy actually transfers his call through without any questions.

 

“What's up, kid?” Tony asks. “Isn't it like a school night or something? Oh, Jesus, please tell me you're not drunk. I'm not equipped to handle situations like that.”

 

“Mr. Stark, something is happening.” Peter isn't quite sure how to explain. He's seen _Groundhog Day_ before. May watches it every year. And he knows all about the hero's quest in movies and comics where they get sent back to fix something and change their destiny. But none of those things are real, and this _is_ , and he doesn't know what's happening.

 

He tells Tony everything except the part where he dies.

 

“So you think you're reliving the same day over and over?”

 

“I know it sounds crazy,” Peter says. “But you have to believe me. You have to.”

 

“I believe you, kid,” Tony says. “Hell if I haven't seen things much weirder than this before. Do yourself a favor and stay home today. I've got a man who knows how to deal with things like this. I'll try to get in contact. You try not to do the same things you did yesterday. Er, today. You know what I mean.”

 

Peter feels better already knowing Tony is on the case. He manages to fall asleep again and when he wakes he has a text from Tony.

 

 **Still working on it** , it says. **Stay close to the ground.**

 

He does. He doesn't patrol. He doesn't leave the apartment. The news shows him old stories. No invasions. No creatures from space.

 

Tony calls him a few hours later. “I'm coming to get you,” he says. “Strange wants to talk to you.”

 

“Strange?”

 

“Stephen Strange. I'll explain on the way.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Not long after, there's a knock on the door and Peter sprints down the hall to answer it.

 

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” he says.

 

“Hey, kid. You ready?” Tony asks. “I'd like to get a move on. There's already a suspicious group of hoodlums hovering around my car.”

 

A scream pierces the air. Someone runs down the hall, ducking when the window near the stairwell explodes, and more screams follow. Peter sees the outline of what looks like the same aliens from before. There are two of them, staggering quickly their way.

 

“Mr. Stark, look out!”

 

Peter reaches for him. The alien aims his weapon. Tony doesn't even have time to call for his suit before the blast hits him square in the chest, the force slamming him back against the wall, his body crumbling to the floor.

 

“No, no, no!”

 

Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. Peter opens his eyes to the familiar sight of his ceiling.

 

 

 

 

A tearful phone call later and he is in the car with Happy on his way to the compound. It's nearly two in the morning by the time they get there, but Tony is awake and waiting for him. He leans against the counter in the kitchen while Peter sits on a stool.

 

“So you think you're reliving the same day over and over?”

 

Peter wrings his hands together and nods.

 

“Okay,” Tony says slowly. “Look, I've seen a lot of weird stuff before. We'll figure this out. I've got a man who knows how to deal with things like this.”

 

“Stephen Strange?”

 

“Yeah. How did you know?”

 

“Because you called him yesterday,” Peter says.

 

“And he didn't help?”

 

“I dunno. You – ” His throat swells. Tears prick at his eyes.

 

“I what?”

 

“You … you died before we went to see him.”

 

Tony blinks at him. “I died?”

 

Peter nods again. He licks his dry lips and swipes a hand under his nose. Tony seems to get it.

 

“Was that the first time I died in this little _12:01_ repetition of yours?”

 

“No.”

 

“Jesus Christ.” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Peter stares hard at the marble table.

 

“Okay, kid. Tell me exactly everything that has happened so far. Don't leave anything out.”

 

 

 

Having to relay the details of Tony's death is almost as bad as when they were actually happening. Peter recalls each one with such raw pain it makes him want to throw up. He's only ever seen one person die before and that was bad enough. Seeing the same person over and over again is edging on unbearable.

 

Tony is on the phone as soon as Peter is done explaining what's happened.

 

“Don't move,” he says. “I'll get Strange in here.”

 

Peter is so close to having this figured out that he can't imagine anything going wrong now. Tony tells him Stephen Strange is a master of all things universe related, which means he can get Peter out of whatever time loop he's somehow fallen into.

 

“You'll be waking up to tomorrow before you know it.”

 

Strange never makes it to the compound though. Before Tony can finish explaining their situation, the building comes under attack. Glass shatters. A wave of air knocks them both off their feet. Peter is stunned for a moment too late. He pulls himself up in time to see Tony fighting with one alien as more filter through the broken windows.

 

Why does Peter never bring his web shooters with him?

 

He puts his training into place. Natasha taught him this. Protect his face. Go for the weak spots. Do aliens have weak spots? God, he doesn't know. But he's stronger than them. He's stronger and Tony's suit is piecing together and this is going to be fine, it's going to work out this time, it's –

 

He hears the gasp, but he doesn't see it. He already knows.

 

Tony dies again.

 

 

 

It doesn't seem to matter what Peter does. He tells Tony, he doesn't tell Tony. He brings his web shooters, he steals the Iron Spider suit, he guards Tony's back. The aliens find him wherever they are, even after Peter somehow manages to convince Tony to fly them out to DC. Peter intercepts them first, doesn't intercept them at all, tries to distract them, tries to distract everyone, and Tony is killed over and over and over and over.

 

He doesn't know how many times it happens. He searches for Stephen Strange on his own and Tony always dies before he can find him. He Googles time loops and watches every movie involving people reliving chunks of time and nothing helps. Nothing changes.

 

And then, when he's exhausted his options and is ready to call Tony and cry until he can't cry anymore, the floor opens up from under him and sends him falling through.

 

He lands in front of a large staircase. A man is standing near him, a red cape draped over his otherwise blue outfit, and Peter stumbles to his feet, bracing himself.

 

“Peter Parker,” the man says. “I'm glad to finally see you.”

 

The room shifts and he drops down into what looks like a library. He grabs onto one of the bookshelves to keep himself standing.

 

The man frowns. “That was … I apologize for not giving you a warning. I'll make sure not to do that again. Have a seat.”

 

Peter looks at the recliner but doesn't move. His hands ball into fists, his nerves tingle.

 

“Oh. Right.” The man starts to make a motion with his hand and stops short. “Mr. Parker, my name is Stephen Strange.”

 

Peter's legs almost give out beneath him. “ _You're_ Stephen Strange? I've – I've been trying – I'm –”

 

“Yes, I'm well aware of everything that's been happening to you. Time loops can be a tricky thing to maneuver. Please, have a seat.”

 

This time Peter does. Stephen sits in the recliner across from him and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

 

“I will tell you it has not been easy getting to you,” he says. “The dimension you've been stuck in is quite difficult to travel through with how often it starts over again. It is also protected by a series of odd spells designed to keep you from reaching me.”

 

“Why am I in it?” Peter asks.

 

“Ah, yes. Well, it appears someone found it amusing.”

 

“Amusing? I … I don't understand.”

 

“Have you ever heard of Loki of Asgard? He is the god of mischief.”

 

“Loki is the guy who tried to take over the world, isn't he? When the Chitauri attacked New York?”

 

“That is correct,” Stephen says. “He was recently on Earth with his brother Thor. They were under strict orders to find their father and leave, but it appears Loki managed to stir up some trouble before I got to him. He's very good at that.”

 

Peter lets out a shaky laugh. “But why would he … why me? I mean, I never met him. I was a kid when he attacked. I wasn't ...”

 

“You weren't Spider-Man yet, no. My only assumption is that Loki heard about you somehow and connected you with the Avengers and Tony Stark. Beyond that, I can't say why he did what he did.” Stephen straightens his posture. “Where are my manners? Would you like some tea?"

 

A small cauldron appears in Peter's hands. He's trembling too much to be able to hold it – a combination of fear and complete disbelief, because, holy shit, _magic_ – so he sets it on the table next to him and offers a smile.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“I see you're nervous,” Stephen says. “And a little frightened. I promise I'm only here to help get things back in order.”

 

“I know,” Peter says. “It's not – I just –”

 

“You've been close to getting help before, yes, I know. Don't worry. As we speak I am undoing the loop. I merely needed to pull you out before I manipulated it. Had I left you in I'm afraid you would have faced the reality Loki subjected you to. I would not have been able to undo it after that.”

 

Tony's lifeless body flashes before him. “You mean Mr. Stark would have stayed dead?” he whispers.

 

“Yes.”

 

“But he won't, right? He'll … he'll be alive? And it won't happen again?”

 

“He'll be the same as he always is,” Stephen says. “The aliens will not attack either. That was part of Loki's game.”

 

Peter's eyes water again. He traces patterns on the arm of the chair, trying to keep his emotions at bay. He doesn't understand any of this, but he's ready for it to be over. He just wants to go to sleep and wake up tomorrow and forget the way it felt to watch Tony die over and over.

 

“Will I ... will I remember this?”

 

“Yes.” Stephen's voice is soft with understanding. “I'm not able to take your memories away. I'm sorry.”

 

Peter shakes his head. “No, don't be. You got me out of this. Anything is better than reliving that.”

 

“I wouldn't be so sure,” Stephen says. He doesn't explain what he means. “Everything is back in order. I will send you on your way. My card is inside your pocket if you ever need me. Keep up the good work, Mr. Parker. Know that we appreciate it greatly.”

 

An orange circle spins around Peter's shoes. In a flash, he's falling again, dropping onto his bed.

 

His eyes close without his permission. 

 

 

 

“What's up, kid?" Tony asks. "Happy said you sounded upset on the phone.”

 

Peter stands in front of him and examines him, looking for anything out of place. The clock ticked on. The day shifted into the next. No aliens came. Tony is here and whole and a little concerned but one hundred percent alive.

 

“What's wrong?”

 

“Nothing.” Peter is so relieved he wants to cry. He pulls his lips between his teeth. Tony claps him on the shoulder.

 

“Seriously, kid. What's going on? Why're you being so weird?”

 

“Have you ever seen _Groundhog Day_?”

 

“The movie with Bill Murray?” Tony says. “Duh. It's a classic.”

 

A tear leaks down Peter's cheek. He wipes it away and smiles shakily. “I've got a new version for you.”

 

Tony eyes him carefully. “Okay. Tell me everything.”

 


End file.
